When All Else Fails
by countruby
Summary: A Blood Elf, a Tauren and a Troll, all bound together by one thing: A book. Each with a problem to solve, these three are led to eachother and through the darkest depths of Azeroth and Dreanor, attempting to defeat and evil greater then fel.
1. Greater than Fel

This is my first story, and yes, I know I said no epic stories, but I can have one, right? Enjoy.

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Under the bright orange trees of Eversong Woods, a young blood elf woman was quietly tending to her garden with her pet treants. As the cool breeze sifted through her blonde locks of hair, she looked to the sky and sighed. It had been a very quiet day for her, something she liked a lot. As she finished up, she waved her hand and the treants vanished, as if they were never there. She made her way towards her home, for a nice mug of coffee and some mana biscuits. She turned her head as she heard a soft rustling in the nearby bushes. She passed it off as the wind and made her way inside.  
From the bushes, a large lump of a black gunk-like substance emerged. It appeared to be solid, but acted very much like a liquid, and each particle when it was removed from the main "body" found its way quickly back. It slithered under the doorway of the woman's home and into her living room. It crept up behind her chair and pounced onto her head. Before she could even make a sound, the gunk was in her mouth and slid down into her lungs. It was not long before she suffocated, and her head fell onto her lap, and then she fell from the chair. The gunk extracted itself from her body, and moved promptly out of the doorway.

"Hello? Sara? Are you there?" Idrai called through the hall of his sister's home. He had planned to visit her today, but she had not replied to his post, so he had gone to her home to check if she was alright. He stepped into the hall and felt a rush of cold air. "This isn't right" he said aloud. He began to shiver from head to toe. Gathering himself, he walked to the living room door. When he saw his sister's lifeless body, he froze in shock. "Who could have done this? And why?" he thought. When he managed to move again, he began a resurrection spell, something he was used to, being a resident healer for his guild. However, the spell merely called a light from the sky, the body remained lifeless.  
"Why? Why is it not working? I can't be losing energy, why isn't it working?" Idrai began to panic. He had never failed to complete a resurrection spell before, why should it suddenly not work now? He was the one of the greatest priests Silvermoon had ever seen, his spells could never fail.  
"I-Idrai? Is that you? Where am I?" said a voice from the corner of the room.  
"Sara! You're...you're... a-a ghost?"  
"Idrai? I'm-I'm scared Idrai... I can't see, I want to... I want to go home, Idrai, I'm scared."  
"Sara... how did you... what happened here?"  
"Idrai... it's all cold..."  
"Don't worry Sara... dad will look after you. Can you see him Sara?"  
"Y-yes. Daddy? Is that you?" In truth, Sara was just under the influence of a spirit soothe spell, cast by Idrai. He knew that he couldn't resurrect her, for some unknown reason, but he could send her with their father, who had died ten years before. Very soon, her spirit vanished, into the Great Beyond. However, it was merely in a state of rest, as not even Idrai could send a restless spirit on.  
"Sara... what killed you? There isn't a single wound on your body..." Idrai closed his eyes, turned around and began to walk to Silvermoon City. He had to find a plausible reason for her death. He had to.

Idrai was in his mid-twenties. He had long, dark brown hair and exceptionally long legs, and was very athletically built. He always wore his signature white and red robes, which was startling to the other Blood Elves, who saw wearing white as disrespect to those they had lost to the Scourge. He merely shrugged it off; he was fighting the Scourge hand-to-rotting hand, which was respect enough for him. He spent his childhood studying as a priest in Silvermoon and moved on to work with the Argent Dawn against the Scourge in the Eastern Plaguelands. He was a master of undead extermination and, also being an Alchemist, had found ways to channel holy energy into potions, making him a valuable asset to the Argent Dawn, especially to the non-spellcasters. He had studied, for a while, under Lady Liadrin herself, who taught him the ways of Discipline, in which he specialises. He was one of those people who had a solution for everything, and if he didn't have one, he'd devote the entirety of his time to finding one. He sat down in the Sunfury Spire's library and began searching through the rows of books to find the reason for his sister's death, and a way to cure her.  
"Hmm... Redeeming the Dead, too basic... How To Resurrect When a Dragon is Digesting You, too specific... ugh, there's nothing in these shelves at all!" He shoved the books back into their places in a huff, and suddenly the spine of a book caught his eye: When All Else Fails. He pulled it out in a fountain of dust which launched him into a small coughing fit, and put it down on the table. The book snapped open the moment it hit the wood. Idrai sat down and began to read;

_Redemption, Resurrection, Revive... you try them all, but each time they fail. You wonder why, so you turn to this book. It just so happened that it was in the Resurrection Studies section of your local library._

Idrai looked up; the plaque on the top of the shelves read "Resurrection Studies". Probably a coincidence, he thought, and continued reading;

_Also, you find that this book appeared to you without you ever seeing it before. You threw back other books in a flurry of anger and suddenly it was there. You thought it could find a way to cure your dead sister when your resurrection spell failed._

Idrai blinked. Had this book-or the author-found a way to attune it to the person reading? Intrigued, he read on;

_There is a way to revive her, Idrai, but you must do everything I say. Your sister was killed by something more powerful than a warrior, more cunning than a rogue and more evil than a warlock. It is composed of more than fel energy, it is something even the Legion cannot hope to control. The only known cure to its power is hidden, far beyond my knowledge. All I know is that you must go to Karazahn. Everything will become known there. Hurry, you do not have much time. Hurry, Idrai Lightweaver. Hurry!_

Idrai gathered up his things and bolted for the door, not giving a second thought to the fact that a book knew everything about him. He mounted his Hawkstrider as quickly as possible and rode it to Hatchet Hills, in the Ghostlands, for the closest Wind Rider to Stonard.  
"I'm going to get you back Sara, no matter what it takes. I couldn't send you to the Great Beyond, and I can't pull your spirit back to me, but if this book is right, the spirits of Karazahn will tell me what to do."

_Idrai Lightweaver, hurry. Time is short, and your sister slips into the clutches of darkness more each second. I am sending others to help you, who you in turn will help. Hurry!_

_

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_So? You like? Please R&R, it makes me feel happier and inclined to write more!


	2. The Hermit and the Thief

Chapter Two, introducing a troll. Well, every story involving Horde characters has to have a troll, right?

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Ta'yan sighed. It had been another very long, boring day for him, picking herbs in the swamp. He just wanted to go back to his cave and his mud. Unfortunately, he had found himself contending with multiple murloc tribes around the shore, and his blue skin was covered in red scratches and black bruises. His herb basket had become heavy, and hard to carry.  
"Grr... if only Ta'yan had been a mage. Den I could be restin' at home while the basket did all da work for me!" growled the troll. In truth, he loved being alone in the swamp, seeing the occasional adventurer, picking herbs and generally being a grumpy recluse. It gave him a slight sense of enjoyment to see others argue with each other, and thinking how happy he was on his own, with nobody to argue with. Slowly, he ambled along the path back to his cave, happy with his collection, which he could take down to Stonard tomorrow to trade them.  
A noise in the bushes caught his attention. Ta'yan narrowed his eyes inspecting them, thinking he had seen a skulking figure. Considering his thoughts invalid, he continued on his way. "Probably just some mama crockolisk wit her young'uns. Hehe..."  
A few minutes later, another noise came from some nearby bushes. As Ta'yan turned around to inspect, he was jumped on by a rouge who had hidden himself in one of the taller trees. The blood elf put a knife to Ta'yan's throat and brought him to the ground.  
"Gah! What ya be wantin' wit me mon? I done nothing to hurt you mon! I swear!"  
"Not me maybe, but my employer. I'm to be told that you stole from him. What do you say to that, troll?" snarled the elf. He had scars all over his face and one of his eyes appeared to be missing. "Speak! Lest I cut your throat and roast your corpse for my afternoon snack!"  
"I done nothing, mon! All I do is live here and pick da herbs!"  
"We know it was you, Ta'yan, and we are not leaving until you return what you stole or you _die._ Which would you prefer? _Mon_?"  
"I'd be preferin' that you let go of Ta'yan's neck, mon. I be findin' it hard to breathe."  
"Just tell us where the damn jewels are, and I'll let you go!" the elf was becoming impatient. He did not normally let people live this long.  
"You see, mon, I be usin' them jewels. Your employer be not knowing their uses."  
"Tell me! NOW!" the elf was getting so angry his eyes were becoming bloodshot.  
"Okay mon, I be telling you..." the troll sighed, and then smirked. "If you be catchin' me." Ta'yan closed his eyes and shape shifted into a wolf, and then promptly vanished.  
"ARGH!" the blood elf screamed. His employer would kill him if he did not catch this filthy troll. But he also knew that he couldn't run forever, and that with his years of training the elf could detect invisible beings with ease. He proceeded to lay a series of tripwires and motion detectors around the swamp to catch his prey.

Panting, Ta'yan came to a stop by a stream. He was fully aware that he stole the jewels, but he needed them, and all the true owner of them was going to do was have them crushed. Ta'yan's totem's needed a new source of energy, and the ones he stole had the exact magical patterns he needed. But he knew that he couldn't run forever, and that the elf would trap him eventually.  
"Oh, Ta'yan's in it big dis time... maybe I should give it up... jus' give dem gems back..." he sighed. All he really wanted was his mud. And his bed. Suddenly, buried in the mud, a sharp edged object dug its way into Ta'yan's elbow. "Ouch! Dat be hurtin'!" he turned to look at what had caught him. It was a book, old and withered, and looked as if it had been there for many years. Ta'yan managed to remove it from the mud after several attempts, and saw that it was written in fluent Troll, but the writing and phrasing seemed almost elven. The book was entitled "When All Else Fails". Slightly confused, he opened it and began reading.

_This book is not an ordinary book. You probably found this discarded in the swamp, covered in mud and seemingly unloved. You had probably stopped to rest after you were running, to have a drink and sleep._

Ta'yan raised one eyebrow. This was all too confusing for him.

_Don't be confused, it is understandable how you feel. But running from these people will just end up in you getting caught, Ta'yan._

"Whoa! How dis book be knowin' my name? You got spirits inside ya, mon?"

_That isn't the case, Ta'yan, nor is it the matter at hand. I am here to help you, but in order for me to do so you need to do everything I say. To the west of the Swamp lies a desolate place named Deadwind Pass. Within it there is an ivory tower, filled with the spirits of dead noblemen, killed by the fury of Medivh. There are people waiting there, people that can help you, and in turn you will help them. Hurry, Ta'yan. They wait, and the elf is drawing near. Quickly, make your way west. Take your totems and armour, nothing more. Hurry Ta'yan. HURRY!_

"Dis be scarin' Ta'yan, but if da book be right, Ta'yan must be movin'. Fast!" Once again, the troll became a Ghost Wolf and began to run, as fast as his ghost legs could carry him to Deadwind Pass. He did not understand what this book was, or why it knew him, but it told him of people that could help, and right now, that was what he needed.

_Ta'yan, you and these people will face great perils, and this is just the beginning. Soon you will learn, as will Idrai, that not all are evil. But now, you must hurry. Think of nothing but Karazahn!_


End file.
